Seconds after Honcho had issued his warning, a shot rang out, targeting one of the nearby bulldozers. Deke literally saw the spark as the bullet glanced off the dozer’s heavy frame. Inside the cab of the roaring dozer, the engine noise was so loud that the operator didn’t even know that he was being shot at.
Honcho waved at the man to get down, but the operator either didn’t see him or didn’t know what was going on.
The next shot was right on target, hitting the dozer operator square in the chest. The man slumped behind the controls, and the dozer rolled on as if it had a mind of its own, finally coming to rest against the stout wall of a building, engine grumbling, smoke pouring from the exhaust.
Another shot echoed along the street, but Patrol Easy had taken cover behind some of the larger chunks of rubble. The street-clearing crew had come to a stop, having seen what had befallen the other dozer operator.
“Anybody see where that sniper was at?” Philly called, scanning the remains of the hollowed-out buildings nearby nervously.
“On it,” said Deke, who thought that he had seen movement in the empty window of a building that still stood at the end of the block. He put his rifle to his shoulder and the scope to his eye, praying that the sniper gave himself away.
Sharp-eyed Juana had seen something too. “There,” she said, pointing, before swinging her own rifle up. She had found cover behind a chunk of concrete not more than a couple of yards from where Deke hid, his rifle resting on a stone block to steady it.
Even through the scope, it was hard for Deke to see any sign of the sniper, because the brownish uniforms worn by the Japanese blended in all too well with the dust-colored buildings, providing nearly perfect camouflage.
But Deke was nothing if not patient. He kept his eye trained on the spot where he thought that he’d spotted movement. He didn’t have to spare a sideways glance to know that Juana was doing the same beside him, although her rifle lacked a telescopic sight. Over the last several days, she had done well with the iron sights. Deke’s eyes were good, but he was beginning to wonder if Juana was even more eagle-eyed than he was. The thought made him smile.
The enemy sniper made the mistake of firing again. His bullet cracked harmlessly overhead but kept the soldiers pinned down. Nobody wanted to end up in his sights.
Deke couldn’t even say that he actually saw the muzzle flash so much as the pressure wave of hot gases leaving the muzzle, creating a split-second ripple against the still backdrop. Looking closer through the scope, he saw a square of the enemy sniper’s cheekbone, the sweaty flesh not quite blending in with the sun-dappled ruins in which the sniper hid. Breathing out, Deke put his crosshairs on that spot and squeezed the trigger.
At the same instant that he fired, he heard the crack of Juana’s rifle.
The enemy sniper never had a chance. Both bullets hit him at once, flinging him back into the ruined room behind him.
Deke looked over at Juana, who returned his gaze and gave him a nod. Again, he thought he saw a slight smile play over her lips.
“You two make a pretty good team,” Philly said. “I’ve got to say, I’m a little worried that I might be replaced. I always thought it was you and me, Corn Pone.”
“Let’s face it, Philly,” Deke said, grinning. “She’s a better shot than you, and she’s a whole lot better looking.”
Philly laughed. “Is that so? In your case, I’d call that a match made in heaven.”
Deke didn’t say anything, but he’d been having that very same thought.
The body of the dead operator was removed from the bulldozer. He was carried away with as much dignity as possible under the circumstances. Someone else climbed into the dozer and gave the surrounding windows a nervous glance. The work clearing the streets resumed.
“All right, the show’s over, so let’s move out,” Honcho said. “In case you all forgot, we’re expected somewhere else.” He paused, looking around at the buildings where any number of snipers might be hiding. “Whatever you do, keep your eyes open.”
They moved cautiously through the ruined city, knowing that each empty window or pile of rubble might be concealing one more enemy soldier eager to die for the Emperor while trying to take out an American soldier at the same time.
Deke and Juana led the way, with Philly and Danilo just behind them. Every footstep felt tense as they threaded their way through the streets, dust from the rubble rising up to coat their boots and their trouser legs. As he walked, Deke’s eyes swiveled in every direction, looking for any sign of movement. Staying alive from one street corner to the next was starting to feel like a small miracle.
Anyone watching Deke would have been reminded of the way a hunting cat prowls through an alley, every muscle tense, ready to jump sideways or pounce, depending on what emerged from the shadows. But Deke was more than an alley cat; he was more like a mountain lion.
